The Aftermath
by DanielleH
Summary: Post-Reichenbach. John deals with his unforgettable past and troubled future. But can he? His sanity may dissolve along the way... No slash. One-shot. Comments are love!


**Author's Note: This is my first actual story that I have created and posted on here. I noticed a few people like it so it'll be chaptered :) Anyway I'm rambling. Enjoy!**

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The unthinkable had happened. He jumped. He actually jumped. John watched. Watched as Sherlock spread his arms wide. And leaped. Terror struck his heart and made his blood run cold. Panic. Fear. Horror. Disbelief. Shock. Dread. Sorrow. Time stood still.

Gravity took it's toll and the body began to drop. It fell to the ground. A loud bone-crunching thud was heard and blood seeped from under the body. But it didn't stop. Over and over the scene began and ended. Falling, falling. Forever. A loud thud was audible each time.

Each descent began to appear worse and worse. The sounds were louder. A scream was heard. The pleading began.

"Please. Please! Make it stop...Help me!"

John screamed and fell to the ground.

He jerked awake and found himself on the floor. He was covered in sweat from head to toe. The sheets were tightly wrapped around him, and his face had connected with the ground. It hurt. Groaning, he rubbed his nose and he pulled himself up into a sitting position on the floor.

He sighed. Every now and then the same nightmare would occur. It happened three times in a row now. This time it was the fourth. It usually ended up with him on the floor, shrieking at the top of his lungs. He was surprised that he hadn't lost his voice already.

Looking around the room, he saw that he had managed to whack the lamp on the ground. Glass had shattered across the floor. Well, that was new. Sighing, he said to himself that he would buy a lamp at the market today. It wasn't like he had anything else to do. Time seemed to go on forever since Sherlock...well...since 'it' happened. He cringed.

Mrs. Hudson didn't even bother to run into his room because she already knew what happened. Things didn't need to get anymore awkward between the two of them.

Grumbling, he slowly stood up. His knees made a satisfying crackling sound. He raised his hands above his head and stretched. Ouch. Looking at his elbows, he saw that they had taken a hit. They were scraped and a few bits of glass from the lamp had etched their way into his skin.

Mumbling something unintelligible, he put on his slippers and meandered his way into the bathroom. If he remembered correctly, a first aid kit was put in there under the sink. Still a bit sluggish, he put his hand against the door while his eyes were halfway closed. He wasn't really awake. To be honest, he didn't really want to be. As soon as he would be done patching himself up, he would march back to bed, and that was something that was dear to him. Sleep didn't come that easily nowadays.

Opening the door, he noticed that the light was on in the living room. Strange. He knew he had turned it off before he went to bed. He sighed and shuffled towards the light switch.

With his eyes still half closed, he thought he saw a face. A very familiar one. And then it was gone like a flash. Could it be him? I hope so. I might still be dreaming John thought. If it was a dream, this was going to be a very good one. Or so he thought.

Looking around the corner he saw nothing, but he heard something. Footsteps. Light and quick. Like someone he knew. The feet were running down the stairs. Smiling, John ran towards the door. He stumbled a few times before he made it to the stairs. The man wasn't there but then there was the sound of a door opening. He was leaving the building.

"I'll catch you" he said, giggling like a school girl.

John sprinted towards the first stair. He hesitated for one second. 'All or nothing' he thought and made a leap to the middle stair. Big mistake. When he squatted down to take a large jump he had lost his footing. His feet slipped behind while his body fell forward down the stairs.

Gravity took hold and his body began to drop. Falling, falling. Forever. Panic. Fear. Horror. Disbelief. Shock. Dread. Sorrow. The most ultimate feeling of fright had set in. This had all been another nightmare. John tumbled down the last few steps of stairs with a loud thud.

He edged himself away from the last stair and put his back against the wall with his head in his hands. He felt pain. Not physically, but mentally. The misery of the last few months came rushing back and he was overwhelmed.

"Let it be over. Let it be over. Please." he sobbed.

John was too involved with his agony that he didn't notice the mysterious man. He had slowly crawled his way back into the house and next to John's side. He never really knew how to deal with these situations. But this time it was different. It was John. His friend. He knelt down beside him and enveloped him inside his trench coat.

John noticed the warmth and looked up at the man. He saw a pair of dark green eyes stare at him, watching. Waiting.

"Sh-Sherlock?"

"Yes, John?" he whispered.

It seemed like an eternity before John responded.

"Why did you do it?"

Sherlock already knew he was going to ask this. He had been prepared. For months.

"Because I had to."

And with that, John let the pain overtake him. Everything became dark.

After that, he wasn't positive if this was a nightmare, or a good dream. He wasn't even sure if it was reality. John just wished that he knew more.


End file.
